Aiden ~ Melanie Moreland

by Melanie Moreland

  “You’re dripping.”

  I turned to Louisa, not in the mood for her this morning. “Thanks for pointing that out. I hadn’t noticed.”

  She glowered at me. “Why didn’t you bring an umbrella?”

  “I did. It blew away, and a car drove past and splashed me.”

  “Oh.” She scratched her chin. “Want to go for coffee?”

  “No,” I stated crossly.

  “I thought it would warm you up, that’s all.”

  “I don’t have time,” I snapped, slamming my locker door shut. “Damn it.”

  “What?”

  “I thought I had a pair of sneakers in there. I must have taken them home. I’ll have to traipse around in my wellies all day, making squeaky noises on the floor. Just great.” I huffed.

  “You could borrow mine. You’re a seven and a half, right?”

  “Um, yes.”

  “I have a pair of sweat pants in my locker too. Not very fashionable, but at least you’d be warm and dry.”

  Instantly, I felt bad for snapping at her. Dry pants and sneakers sounded better than rubber boots and damp clothes. “That’s nice of you. Thank you.” I met her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m having a bad morning.”

  She shook her head. “No, I get it. Stay here, and I’ll be right back. Class was canceled, so we can do coffee. It’ll be great!”

  She hurried away, and I looked at my phone. Sure enough, there was a text saying just that. It must have come during my puddle shower. Now, I had no excuse for not having coffee with Louisa.

  Except, even though she was being kind, I really didn’t want to.

  “We should hang out this weekend. Your sister is away for a while, right?”

  I was perplexed. “How did you know that?”

  “You said something last week.”

  “Oh. Yeah, she is.”

  “What about Saturday? We could watch some movies and have dinner?”

  “It’s inventory time, so I work on Saturday morning. I have plans after, sorry.”

  “Well, Sunday is good too. I could come spend the day, and we can study and everything.”

  I passed a hand over my head, too tired to deal with her right now. “Not this weekend, Louisa.”

  Her expression darkened. “Why not?”

  “I have things to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “Stuff. Errands, groceries, some designs I have to work on.”

  “I’ll go with you. It’ll be fun.”

  I drew in a deep breath and counted to ten.

  “Louisa, I appreciate the offer, but not this weekend.”

  Her lips thinned, and her brow furrowed. She curled her fists on the table and glared at me.

  “I suppose your plans on Saturday include Emmy.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why her? Why not me?”

  “Emmy is my best friend,” I said, trying to hold in my temper. “I already had plans with her, and I’m not breaking them.”

  “She wasn’t around to help you this morning. I know she gets a ride every day in some fancy car. If she’s such a great friend, why doesn’t she give you a lift?”

  Before I could respond, she kept going.

  “She’s too busy with her rich boyfriend for you these days. Since Aiden isn’t your boyfriend, she’s ignoring you now. You need to move on. Find a real friend.”

  I saw red.

  “Emmy is a real friend. My best friend. You know nothing about her, our relationship, or my relationship with Aiden. For your information, she offers me a ride anytime I want one, but I like to walk. If she knew I needed her this morning, she’d have been there in a second, so don’t sit there and judge her based on some silly idea in your head.”

  “I’m just saying—”

  I interrupted her. “I know exactly what you were saying. Stop bad-mouthing Emmy. If you think that it will make you look like a better person in my eyes, you’re wrong.”

  “I’m a much better friend. We have so much more in common than you two do. You and I are so similar, and we’ve become so close. You buy me gifts and everything!”

  I gaped at her. I was so done with the conversation. I leaned forward, trying to keep my voice level.

  “We are schoolmates. That is it, Louisa. Not best friends. We’re barely even acquaintances. You know nothing about me, and I know nothing about you.” I stood. “Frankly, that’s exactly how I want it to be. I bought you notebooks to say thanks and replace the one you felt I ruined. That was all it was. Not a gift. I’ll wash and return your clothes to you tomorrow.”

  “Where are you going?” She grabbed my arm. “We’re having coffee!”

  She looked frantic and angry. I shook off her tight grip. “No, we’re done. Leave me alone, Louisa. Just leave me alone.”

  I turned and hurried away. But something told me I hadn’t heard the end of Louisa or the conversation.

  Cami

  I MANAGED TO avoid Louisa all day, but our argument kept filtering through my head. Aiden had been correct—she was weird. How could she have come up with the idea we were so close? I had tried to be nice, but aside from school and the project group we were both in, I had nothing to do with her outside of class.

  I pulled on my damp jacket and reached for my wellies beside the lockers. They had racks where we could put our boots to dry on rainy and snowy days so our lockers didn’t get wet. I slid them on and shut the locker. I was walking across the campus when I saw the colors ahead of me. I stopped, focused on the person moving away, and the item that caught my attention.

  My umbrella. There, across the grass common area, was the girl carrying my umbrella. Emmy had been right. Someone had found it and was using it. Like me, she wore a set of purple wellies, and her jacket was dark like mine, which was why Emmy had mistaken her for me the other day.

  I rushed across the grass, yelling. “Hey! Miss! You, with the pretty umbrella!”

  She ignored me, her footsteps speeding up.

  “Wait! I just want to talk to you! Please!”

  I raced through a large puddle and stopped in surprise as my feet became wet. Stepping out of the water quickly, I lifted one foot, then the other, unable to stop my gasp of disbelief when I realized both boots had a long tear along the seam. I must have caught them somewhere in my haste.

  I looked up to see my umbrella disappearing around the corner. Ignoring the water sloshing in my boots, I chased after the girl. Except, when I rounded the corner, she was gone. There were a few people milling around, most of them sharing an umbrella, but my pretty one was nowhere to be seen. I huffed a sigh, frustrated. Why hadn’t she stopped? I only wanted to talk to her. I’d even buy her a new umbrella.

  I turned to retrace my steps when a flutter of color caught my eye. I bent down and picked up a sopping piece of material from a puddle alongside the building. Wet and dirty, I still recognized it.

  My scarf.

  In my apartment, I stared at the scarf I had lost, racking my brain, trying to figure out the mystery. The most logical explanation was I had used the scarf and umbrella the same day, lost them together, and the girl had found and kept them. Nothing else made sense.

  I examined my boots, surprised to see how exact the tears were in both boots—right along the seam at the bottom. They weren’t old enough for the seams to have given out, and I was certain the punctures would be more like jagged tears if that were the case.

  What had caused them then?

  I rubbed my eyes, weary. What was going on with me? I wished Dee were here to talk to. I knew I could call Emmy and talk it through more, but I didn’t want to bother her. My eyes strayed to my phone. I wondered if I called Aiden if he would listen to me—or even pick up the phone if he saw my number. I knew he would help me sort it out. He would talk me through it, his queries intelligent and thoughtful, as he helped me recall when I had last seen my umbrella and scarf. Confirm I had been wearing my cuff last week. He could probably even explain the tears in my boots and the failed lo
ck at school. I’d feel so much better.

  But I couldn’t pick up the phone. If he didn’t answer or refused to help me, I wasn’t sure I could handle the rejection.

  Instead, I stood and headed to the bathroom. A bubble bath, a glass of wine, and some soft music would help make the awful day better.

  It was all I had.

  I made it to Friday without running into Louisa. She was at the table when I arrived for our project meeting, but she refused to acknowledge me. I slid a bag her way. “Thank you for loaning these to me.”

  She picked up the bag and turned her back to me. She didn’t speak the entire time and left before I was out of my chair. I knew she wanted more—an apology and an invitation to “hang” together on the weekend, but I offered neither. I refused to be friends with someone who bad-mouthed Emmy.

  I was dead tired. I spent the night on the sofa again, and I hadn’t slept well at all, constantly woken by my dreams. When I’d arrived home the night before, the door was ajar again, and I couldn’t be sure I had locked it behind me when I had left in the morning. My super came in with me and checked out the place, assuring me no one was there. But all night, I thought I heard footsteps and the door opening. I sensed someone there, but when I sat up, I was alone. I was being paranoid over a mistake of forgetting to lock the door. I said nothing to Dee when we texted, not wanting to upset her. This morning, I double-checked the lock and made sure I shut the door tight behind me.

  I dragged myself home, grateful to find the door still shut. Inside, I pulled off my coat and dumped my knapsack on the table. I glanced around the kitchen, knowing I should eat something, but my appetite had been off. I hadn’t cooked since Dee left, snacking on crackers and peanut butter sandwiches. I hadn’t even made coffee.

  I pulled open the fridge door, frowning at the container on the shelf. Inside was Dee’s homemade mushroom soup. One of my personal favorites. She must have made it for me before she left. A smile tugged on my lips. She’d had a busy morning before she left for Calgary.

  Placing some in a bowl, then the microwave, I headed to my room. Closer to the door, I hesitated, confused. The scent of my perfume was heavy in the air. I flicked on the light, glanced around, but there was nothing to see. On my dresser, the bottle stood off to the side, the top off. I picked up the bottle, feeling a prickle down my neck. Had I used it this morning? How much of it had I used if I could still smell it so strongly? I searched the top of the dresser wondering if I had spilled some onto the wood. It was very potent, and I used it sparingly.

  Mystified, I turned, my gaze sweeping my room. Nothing was out of place, nothing moved. I yanked open my closet door and pulled on the string to turn on the small bulb. It was empty, except for my clothes. Yet, I shivered. Something felt off.

  I forced myself to laugh. I was being silly. I doubted a burglar had come in, used my perfume, and left. I must have dribbled some this morning.

  I changed my clothes, went back to the kitchen, and took my soup from the microwave. Deciding I needed to relax, I watched a mindless comedy movie on TV, texted Emmy to confirm tomorrow afternoon after work, and left Dee a voice mail, thanking her for the soup. I tried to make my voice sound as chipper as possible.

  “Loved my surprises! You spoil me. I’ll talk to you Sunday!”

  I fell asleep on the sofa, grateful when I woke early Saturday morning. As I was getting ready for work, my phone buzzed with a text from Emmy.

  Miserable day. Want to hang here when you get off work? Bentley is gone for the afternoon.

  I smiled and replied.

  Perfect. I am going in early for inventory so will be off by noon.

  She sent back a smiley face.

  Dee had also responded to my text saying she was already exhausted and overworked, but she promised to call the next day.

  I treated myself to an Uber after work and headed to Bentley’s. Emmy was waiting, and we spent the afternoon just being us. We made cookies in the lavish kitchen, swam in the pool, watched movies in the theater room, and stuffed ourselves with popcorn. I told her about seeing the girl with the umbrella and the fact that she’d been wearing my scarf.

  “You must have left them someplace together, and she found them.”

  “I wish she had stopped. I’m not mad, but I would like it back. I’d buy her another umbrella.”

  Emmy laughed. “Not as pretty.”

  “No.”

  She patted my hand. “We’ll go to the craft fair again and get you another one. At least you have your scarf back.”

  “I tore my wellies, and I need new ones.”

  “Oh, you too? One of mine ripped right down one seam last week. Bentley thought it was a defect since it was such a perfect tear. He bought me a new pair.” She laughed. “With wooly liners to keep my feet as warm as possible.”

  My chest hurt a little at her words. Bentley loved and cared for her as if she was his entire world. He constantly looked for ways to spoil or cater to her. I was surprised he hadn’t bought her four pairs in different colors, the same way he purchased shawls for her. I had to admit, I wanted that—not the presents, but the love. The fierce protectiveness and the adoration in the way he looked at her. I wanted it from one person—the one person who insisted that he was incapable of giving it to me.

  I blinked away the sudden moisture in my eyes and forced a smile. “I’ll find a new pair.”

  “We can go shopping next week.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I glanced toward the window. “I wonder if it will ever stop raining.”

  “I know. It’s depressing.”

  I was in full agreement. I was already feeling down, and the weather didn’t help.

  “Why don’t you stay the night and go home tomorrow after brunch?”

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You won’t be. Bentley loves it when you’re here.”

  “Ah, will anyone else . . .”

  She shook her head as my voice trailed off. “No. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She cocked her head. “You may have fooled Bentley—even Aiden—the other night. But I know how tough that was for you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you okay, Cami? What can I do?”

  “Nothing. I told you I was a big girl. Aiden and I didn’t work.” I huffed out a sigh. “I wanted more than he did. He laid out the rules, I agreed to them, then I broke them.”

  She regarded me in silence, then hugged me. “He’s a fucking idiot.”

  “No,” I whispered. “He’s lost.”

  “He hurt you.”

  “I don’t think he wanted to.”

  “I could talk to him,” she offered. “Or get Bentley to try . . .”

  “No. Leave it. He made his decision, and that is it. I don’t want you talking to him, or Bentley risking his friendship.” I sighed in exasperation. “I know it’s hard, Emmy, but you have to let it go. I have to let it go. Promise me you won’t say anything.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t try setting us up or planning things where we have to interact. I know we’ll bump into each other at times, and that’s fine, but don’t push it. Don’t talk to him about me. Promise me.”

  “You’re not coming back to his lessons, are you?”

  “No.”

  “You enjoyed them.”

  “They offer some self-defense classes at the gym. I might sign up for those.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “You’ll hurt Aiden’s feelings.”

  She thought it over. “I can do both. I’ll see him on Tuesdays and go with you whenever the other classes start.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes. You’re my best friend.”

  I hugged her. “Thank you.”

  I stayed the night. When Bentley got home, he was in an odd mood, almost giddy. It was rare for me to see him that animated, and I enjoyed his humor. Watching him and Emmy together was bittersweet. Their love shone brightly, and it hurt to see the way he doted on her, even
though I was thrilled for her. She deserved to be happy.

  We ordered pizza for dinner; he made us a pitcher of martinis and left us in the movie theater with a pile of chick flicks. I was relaxed, the tension of the past weeks easing off. It felt good to sit back and unwind. I slept well in the big bed in the guest room, safe and secure. After brunch, Bentley drove me home, still in a great mood. I was grateful he didn’t push me about Aiden, but he did surprise me by hugging me hard after he opened my door and helped me out of the car. I had to admit, his old-fashioned manners were a nice change.

  “I’m here for you, Cami. Anything you need, you only have to ask.”

  “Thanks, Bentley.”

  “I mean it.”

  I hugged him again. “I know.”

  I paused outside the apartment, feeling some of my tension return. I hadn’t said anything to Emmy. My fears and worries seemed almost ridiculous when I stepped back and thought about it. It had been a rough few weeks, and some things had gone badly. I’d misplaced a couple of items. Forgotten some things. It happened. Once I settled back down, life would return to normal.

  I wasn’t my mother. Even Dee said so.

  Inside my apartment, I looked around, but everything was in its place. I hung up my coat and took my bag to my room, setting it on the chair. I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and sat down to work on the assignment we’d been given on Friday. I liked to get them done as soon as possible, unlike some of my classmates who put them off until the last minute.